


jamais vu

by andtheny



Series: Five is a problem solver [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - No Sparrow Academy (Umbrella Academy), Awkwardness, Family Issues, Five cares, Gen, Miscommunication, No Apocalypse, Number Five | The Boy-centric, POV Alternating, POV Number Five | The Boy, POV Vanya Hargreeves, Post-Season/Series 02, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Therapy, Vanya Hargreeves-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27099298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andtheny/pseuds/andtheny
Summary: "Um… I love you.""I love you too, of course," Five said.Five did not hesitate with the phrase, but he realized as he spoke that he had not said the words in years."But we should say so more often," he added.___________________Or, Vanya wants to spend more quality time with Five. He is slow to notice.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: Five is a problem solver [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977970
Comments: 48
Kudos: 332





	1. I can give you Sundays

_The strongest of all warriors are these two: Time and Patience._

_― Leo Tolstoy_

Meditation was torture. A necessary evil, as far as Five was concerned, but torture all the same. 

It helped Vanya center herself before training. 

It struck Five as funny that it had never occurred to the old man to foster any sort of peaceful environment for his most volatile weapon during their training sessions. Instead he’d barked at her like a drill sergeant and then had the gall to be _surprised_ by the explosive result. 

And Reginald Hargreeves had thought himself intelligent. Five scoffed to himself and then winced, opening his eyes to peek at his sister. 

Vanya’s eyes were still closed, but her lips were twitching.

Five was tempted to interrupt their meditation session to ask her if she was doing the breathing, if she had a clear mind, if she could hear… whatever it was she was supposed to be hearing. 

But to speak would defeat the whole point of the exercise wouldn’t it? 

In any case, it looked like she was breathing just fine. 

“I can feel your eyes, Five,” Vanya murmured. 

Five tutted and closed his eyes without responding. 

Meditation was torture. 

But he had to hold himself still until the timer went off. It was a mere five minutes of stillness. Five could spare that much. All he had to do was breathe along with her. It was a tedious _non-_ task, but one that had already proven itself fruitful. 

Slowly but surely, Vanya was wrestling her powers into submission. 

And Five was determined to bear witness. To make sure the bomb of the apocalypse was effectively defused. To _fix_ what their father had broken. 

Five had always been a problem solver. 

A do-er. A fixer.

Sitting compliantly in the training room while Vanya’s little device (she’d called it a phone, but it did not look like a phone; more like a slab of plexiglass) played calming ambient noise was the last thing Five would call productive. 

But it _was_ productive, he reminded himself. It was a vital component to Vanya’s training. Allowing her the emotional control she struggled with after years of numbing anxiety medications.

So when the timer finally went off Five did his best to school his expression. To stand slowly, to maintain his calm breathing. _Calm_ was the important thing here. Calm was the whole damn point. 

Vanya smiled at him. 

“Alright,” he said. “Today, I thought you could try levitating Luther’s weights.” 

She had levitated their brothers, and himself, on that fraught night at the Icarus Theater. It had been a strange kind of telekinesis. Not something he would have anticipated from her powers, which had seemed more like super charged sound waves than anything else. 

“Oh. Um, I don’t know how to do that on command,” Vanya said. “I’ve only done it...” She winced. “The one time.” 

“I understand,” Five said. “But it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try, hmm?” 

Vanya nodded. 

Two hours later and their progress was minimal, but it was progress nonetheless. She hadn’t been able to lift anything clear off the ground, but she’d sort of… nudged the weights. Displaced them slightly. 

They had been moved, incrementally, from where they had originally sat. 

It would have to do.

While they were at it Vanya had also shattered all the light bulbs, but Five waved away her stammering apologies. A few broken light bulbs were peanuts compared with the _moon_ she’d once decimated. 

The timer went off again and Five sighed. They closed each training session with another five minute meditation. 

So he sat with her. Crossed his legs together, placed his hands in his lap. He did not fidget. Did not open his eyes, much as he was tempted. 

Simply sat and breathed. 

Alone with his thoughts. 

How did five damn minutes stretch so long when one did nothing at all? 

Just focus, you idiot. Breath. 

Meditation was such a _Vanya_ thing. It did not surprise him that she found comfort in the activity. Like many of her past attempts to self-actualize, it was a quaint idea. Right up there with therapy and writing. 

He liked the way these things made her familiar. She’d begun to feel like another person. Like a stranger. Especially when he’d found her in the sixties. The amnesiac Vanya had little regard for Five. She’d thought him a rude little man. He’d seen it in her eyes. 

And she’d _laughed_ in the face of their petty family drama. Five would never forget the nonchalant way she’d shrugged her shoulders at the little explosion from her powers at that dinner table with Reginald. How she’d demurred an amused little “ _Whoops.”_

That was before she’d known. Before she’d remembered. 

The good old American government had certainly slapped that nonchalance out of her when they’d-

The timer went off. 

Five opened his eyes and found that Vanya was smiling at him once again. But there was a wrinkle in her brow, a tense set to her jaw. 

It was a smile, but a nervous, hesitant little thing. Nothing like the defiant scowl she’d directed at him before that incident. Before her memories were thrust upon her like a dead body to a grave digger. 

Was she really better off like this? 

“Good work,” Five said. “I’ll see you next-” 

“Do you want to eat dinner with me?” Vanya said in a rush. “Uh, before you go?” 

Five blinked. “Sure.”

The two of them made an odd pair when they ventured into the public sphere. Him in his schoolboy shorts and her in her tasteful button ups. She was too young to be his mother, he was too… unruly to be a student. And yet they stood too far apart for siblings. There was discomfort in the air. There was tension. 

They ate their food in silence, regarding each other from across the table. And once again Five was alone with his thoughts. 

Dolores wouldn’t have allowed it to drag on like this. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while,” Five said. “But I thought it would be too advanced to… pursue. I decided to table it.” 

“What did you want to ask?” Vanya’s little frowns were more familiar than her smiles.

Klaus told Five that she’d "partied" with him and Allison in the sixties. They’d gotten drunk and danced around in a hair salon. 

He couldn’t picture it. 

“Harlan,” Five said. “How did you give him your abilities?” 

Vanya bit her lip. “It was an accident.” 

“I’m aware of that,” Five said. “But what were the… circumstances of that accident?” 

She considered the question for a moment, glaring down at a bread roll. She tore the bread into little pieces. A nervous habit. 

“Nevermind,” Five said. “We can-”

“He was in the lake,” Vanya said. “He almost drowned.” 

Five nodded and gestured with a hand. _Go on._

“I think it happened when I was trying to revive him?” Vanya touched her lips. “Mouth to mouth resuscitation. There was this… this glow. I could see it flow into him.” 

“It was instinctual,” Five said. “Do you think it’s what saved him?” 

Vanya scratched her cheek. “I like to think it was the oxygen that saved him.” 

Five hummed. “I suppose gaining your powers was more of a… byproduct.” 

“It’s like it infected him.” Vanya rubbed her arms, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I hope that’s not something that could happen any time I try to k-kiss…” 

She trailed off, making a face. 

Five blanched and cleared his throat.

“But it could be useful,” Five said, trying to change tracts. “It’s like the inverse of Lila’s power. The ability to lend someone your strength.” 

“Maybe,” Vanya said. “But it was impossible for Harlan to control. I wouldn’t want to burden someone with that.” 

“With forethought and training-” Five began. 

“No,” Vanya said.

Five frowned at her. 

She glared at her crumbled bread roll, picking up the pieces and smashing them together. “I don’t think it’s something we should experiment with.” 

“Alright,” Five said. 

It was better to guide than to push. If Reginald had understood that from the start, perhaps they’d all have been better off. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


One thing the old man had been right about was the human need for _structure._ Without a constructive schedule, without a tangible way to compartmentalize problems- to untangle them from each other- they’d clatter around at the surface. They would trip each other up.

In the Apocalypse that meant carefully deciding when to buckle down with his equations and when to search for food. When to sleep and when to migrate for better weather. 

Things were simpler then. It was easy to decide which issue needed immediate attention and which should be tabled.

But now his problems came attached to his siblings. Siblings who were _alive_ and could not patiently wait beneath the rubble for him to get his life in order. 

So how to organize them? By number?

Except Vanya took priority, of course. That was a no brainer. Twice a week, Tuesday and Friday, for two hours a week. She made it simple for him by deciding on the schedule herself. 

Five spent more than the allotted two hours on the issue, of course. He prepared himself for their lessons by reading Reginald's notes on her childhood training. He was determined to learn from the old man’s mistakes and gave serious thought into creating his own sort of training plan. A plan that was perfectly tailored to Vanya’s temperament. 

Luther’s main issue was aesthetic. Five found their father’s old notes on that shoddy healing serum and was taking pains to scrutinize the formula. If he could fix the serum, perhaps he could reverse its effects. 

He arbitrarily selected Monday as the day to dedicate to that project. 

Diego was mostly fine, as long as he had Mom. Five was giving her manual a more thorough study. He wanted to understand the way her mind worked. To give her a tune up, if possible. 

This task was assigned to Wednesday. 

Allison was still embroiled in a custody battle with her ex-husband. He kept tabs on the court proceedings (all public record, and a click away on those fancy computers at the public library) and read up on the minutiae of custody options in the state of California. 

He made those library visits on Thursday. 

Klaus’s newfound relationship to sobriety was shaky at best. He had a tangible motivation now (some ghost he was trying to contact?) but Five did not trust his brother's willpower. He strong-armed the idiot into enrolling in Narcotics Anonymous and personally made a point of escorting him there every Saturday. 

And then there was Ben. 

On Sundays, Five worked on a probability map. How would the timeline be affected when he saved Ben? How would the Commission react? They’d been effectively neutralized, last he saw them. Their board of members wiped out. Their field agents massacred. Even the Handler was dead. 

But time flowed differently for the Commission in that it didn't flow at all. They existed outside the timeline. Even if it took them years to rebuild their staff, they could return in an instant. 

They could turn up to re-instigate the Apocalypse. 

Five had lost sleep to the possibilities, those first few nights back from the sixties. It drove him crazy because he couldn't see an effective way to plan for the Commission's return. 

After all, what _could_ he do? Fortify the Academy like a bunker in a war zone? Sequester his siblings, stock up on weapons, and wait for the enemy? 

Five knew none of them would have cooperated. He discarded the idea. 

No, better to make the first move himself. To provoke the Commission into revealing their hand. He still had a briefcase. Five was determined to use it. 

And he was determined to save Ben. 

But he needed a _plan_. 

Sundays were dedicated to the probability map, the timeline, and scrutinizing the immediate events before and after Ben's death. It took considerable self-restraint to turn away from this task on Sunday's end, but Five knew it was the smart thing to do. 

His time in the Apocalypse had taught him that the human brain could not single mindedly narrow in on one problem for days and years on end without driving itself mad. The mind needed… a diverse field of stimuli. It had to change tracts. 

"Like a computer program running in the background," Five murmured. "Some of my best ideas were had when I looked away from the problem. When I let it steep in my subconscious." 

"Meditation can be good for that too," Vanya said. "But you need to stay quiet, Five." 

Five opened his eyes in surprise. For a second there, he'd forgotten she was in the room with him. 

"Right," Five said. 

Today was Tuesday. It was Vanya's day, so Five consciously steered his thoughts back to the task at hand. 

How long had they been sitting here anyway? Did Vanya forget to set the timer?

Meditation was torture. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It was a Sunday afternoon. Five was scrutinizing his probability map, frowning at the numbers. 

There was so much that was uncertain, and he was running out of space. Though he supposed he could get himself a chalkboard, when it came to that.

Someone knocked on his door. "Go away, Klaus!"

"Um." Vanya's voice barely had the volume to filter through the door. "It's Vanya, actually." 

"Oh." He warped to the door and opened it. "Hello." 

“Hi," Vanya said. "How… how are you?” 

Five glanced at the wall where he'd been writing, then back at his sister. “I’m well, thanks.” 

A pause. 

“How are you?” Five said. 

“Good,” Vanya said. “I’m good.” 

“That’s good.” Five put the cap back on the marker in his hand. He had a feeling this might turn into a long conversation.

Vanya peeked around him. “What are you doing in here?” 

Five frowned. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” 

Vanya hovered in the doorway. 

“Do you need something?” Five said. 

“Do you have some time today?” 

Five dropped his marker. “What happened?” 

“Huh?” 

They both looked at each other in confusion. 

“Um, nothing in particular?” Vanya said. “I just wanted to… hang out.” 

Five blinked. 

“But I can see that you’re busy,” she quickly added. “So don’t worry-”

“I’m not busy,” Five said. He glanced at his work. She'd caught him halfway through an equation and his fingers twitched at the sight of its incompleteness. “I mean, this can… I can spare an hour or two.” 

No one would ever accuse Five of being a dumb man, but he knew he lacked a certain finesse when it came to social niceties. Leave that nonsense for the politicians, he'd always thought. Why should it concern him? 

But these days it did concern him, in more ways than one. His responsibility to Vanya- to her happiness and emotional stability- extended far beyond familial bonds now. 

After all, the fate of the world rested on her shoulders. 

“Are you sure? This all looks, um, kind of complicated-”

“It can wait,” Five said, firmly. “It’s alright.” 

She looked uncertain. 

"What would you like to do?" Five said. 

The shy way she pulled a pair of tickets out of her pocket hit Five with a jolt of nostalgia. It was such a _Vanya_ thing to do. If he'd sent her away she would have gone home and thrown the tickets. She would have bought another set on another day and tried again. 

"There's this play I was curious about," Vanya said. "It's not, uh, super high quality or anything. It's being put on by this, like, community college? But I thought it looked interesting…" 

"Great," Five said. "Let's go." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Maybe it was foolish to think the play would make Vanya happy. Things were never that simple.

As they walked away from the performance he studied Vanya's stooped posture. The way she kept glancing at her phone. The beaten scabs on her lips, which she gnawed at with a nervous energy.

“Something on your mind?” Five said. 

“Uh, well it’s already been an hour and a half,” Vanya said. “And you said you could only spare two hours. Sorry, I didn’t realize the play would be that long, and it'll take _at least_ twenty minutes to get home from here… sorry, I didn't mean to cut it this close.” 

He'd forgotten how easy it was to worry her. He shouldn’t have imposed a time constraint. 

“You weren't meant to take me so literally on that,” Five said. “I’m not in a hurry.” 

She looked relieved, finally pocketing her phone. “Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case…” 

“Yes?” 

“Well, you’ve gotta eat, right? It’s around dinner time anyway…” 

“I _do_ have to eat,” Five agreed. “Where would you like to go?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“How’s the orchestra?” Five said. 

"This thing looks a lot prettier than it tastes." Vanya poked at her artful pastry, wrinkling her nose. 

"You can blame your plexiglass," Five said. 

"My what?" 

"The phones. They're also cameras, apparently." Five gestured to the teenagers two tables over, who were treating the café like their own personal photo shoot.

Vanya glanced at the table in question and then back towards her dessert, puzzled. "What do phones have to do with it?"

"Businesses adapted to cater to the new clientele," Five explained. "Clientele that prioritize visuals over flavor." 

"Oh." Vanya delicately tore her pastry apart and squinted at it. "Well, I guess the chocolate in the middle is good." 

"Small miracles," Five muttered. 

"And the sandwiches were good." Vanya offered this fact up to him like a consolation prize. 

He sighed. 

"They _were_ good, right?" She scrutinized his plate, where half of his sandwich had been abandoned. "Oh no, did you hate it?" 

"I liked it," Five said. "I'll take the rest to go." 

The look on her face told him she didn't believe him.

"Did you like the coffee?" The pastry was crumbling in Vanya's hands, chocolate tacky on her fingers. 

Five handed her a napkin. 

"The coffee was fine," Five said. "You didn't answer my question." 

Vanya avoided his eyes. “Which question?"

"How is the orchestra." Five enunciated with careful patience.

"I’m not… I’m not in the orchestra anymore.” 

“What? Why not?” 

“Well, I kind of quit?” 

“You _quit?_ ” 

Vanya winced at his volume and glanced around. The teenagers were snickering at them, but Five didn't give a damn.

“Why the hell would you quit?” Five demanded.

"It's not a big deal, I just… I just quit."

“When did this happen?” 

“As soon as we got back from the sixties.” 

“Why?” Five said. 

This didn’t make any sense. 

“I didn’t deserve First Chair,” she said. 

“What makes you say that?”

“The _actual_ first chair was murdered, Five,” Vanya said. “That’s the only reason I got the spot.” 

Oh. Helen Cho. That's right, he'd found her body in Harold Jenkins's attic. 

"Be that as it may-" Five began. 

"And it isn't safe," Vanya added, firmly. She was lifting her chin now, straightening up in her seat. "It was the right thing to do." 

Five took a moment to admire this flash of confidence before he considered her words. He liked it when Vanya stood up for herself. She'd made a decision and backed up her reasoning. Good. 

Misplaced survivor's guilt aside, it was also true that her violin had become something of a weapon when paired with her powers. Five should have taken this into account with her training plan.

Why weren't they using her violin?

"Probably for the best," Five said. 

Vanya sagged with relief. 

"But you'll go back, won't you?" He added. "When it's safe." 

Vanya plopped a big chunk of her crappy crumbled pastry into her mouth and carefully chewed, buying time for her answer. 

Five allowed his eyes to wander as she thought and noted that the teenagers had multiplied. This entire café had a 4:1 ratio of teenagers to adults. 

What were they all doing out here on a Sunday evening? Didn't these kids have school in the morning and parents to get home to? 

The incessant camera flashes from a particularly _boisterous_ patron was getting under his skin. He imagined ramming a fork through her jugular and rolled his eyes at himself. 

"Five," Vanya said. 

He gave her his full attention. 

"How will I know when it's safe?" 

"I'll tell you when it's safe," Five said. "We'll incorporate the violin into our sessions." 

She shook her head. "That would be too dangerous for you." 

Too dangerous. 

As if he really were the child he looked and not a man who had lived in a world on fire. As if he weren't a man who had killed more people in five years than most serial killers could achieve in a lifetime. 

"I recognize that smile," Vanya said with a sigh. "Anything I say against this will be pointless, huh?" 

"I'm glad we're on the same page." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They were making remarkable progress. The violin was more than a weapon. It was an antenna, able to funnel her raw power, to channel it in a clear direction. 

Now Vanya could actually _aim_ at a target. Though whether that target would get levitated or shattered was still up in the air, at least now her power wasn't widely flung around the room at large. 

And knowing that Five no longer had to constantly dodge around sound waves of raw power had allowed Vanya to further relax when using her abilities. To build confidence. 

Things were going _well._

They were meditating after a particularly fruitful session when Luther's lumbering footsteps disrupted the ambient noise.

"Are you guys done yet?" Luther said.

"A few more minutes," Five said. 

"Sorry," Vanya said. "Do you need the gym?" 

"No, uh, we're about to watch a movie," Luther said. "Do you guys wanna join? We'll wait for you." 

Five opened his eyes and saw that Vanya's grin was beatific.

"Yeah!" Vanya said. "I mean, _I_ do." 

She glanced from Luther to Five. "What do you think, Five?"

Vanya had not yet been subjected to Klaus and Luther's abhorrent taste in film. 

But he knew how to read a room. 

"Sure," Five said. "Why not." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


After an agonizing two hours of poorly choreographed fight scenes and sex jokes, the movie was over and Five made a hasty exit. 

Spatial jumps allowed him to skip the insipid shuffle around the couch, or the post-movie interrogation from Klaus, who wanted to know what Five _thought_ or what he _liked_ or (in a display that often struck Five as strangely masochistic) what Five hated about the movies he deigned to watch with them. 

And conversations like that could go on for hours. 

When he jumped into the kitchen it was empty, and Five thought this was all the better. He went about making himself a sandwich. 

He'd already sat down to eat when Vanya wandered into the room. 

"Hey, Five?" 

He spoke around a mouthful of bread. "You're still here?" 

She chuckled self deprecatingly and he winced at his word choice. 

He swallowed. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I just, I thought you might be in here," Vanya said. "I wanted to say goodnight." 

"Oh, goodnight then," Five said. "Get home safely." 

"Thanks," she said. 

But Vanya made no move to leave. 

"Was there something else?" Five said. 

"Do you have plans this weekend?" 

He pursed his lips, mentally reviewing his self-appointed schedule. 

"Klaus has a monopoly on Saturdays," he said. 

She blinked. "What, like… every Saturday?" 

"I'm afraid so," Five said. "I drive him to his NA meetings." 

_"Oh,_ " Vanya said. "Oh, that's… that's nice of you." 

"He's like a dog," Five groused. "It's like dragging a mutt to the vet with its tail between its legs." 

She laughed at his griping good naturedly. 

"But he can be trained like a dog too," Five said. "Positive reinforcement works best." 

"So you reward him for going to the meetings?"

"Usually eats up the whole day," Five said, nodding regretfully. "Last week he dragged me to an aquarium." 

"Sounds fun," she said.

"He made me touch a stingray." Five let his disgust be apparent on his face. It dripped palpably into his voice. "Their skin is covered in a layer of _mucus_." 

Vanya laughed again and this time it sounded more genuine. "You bore it bravely." 

"It was cruel and unusual."

A girlish giggle, the sound nostalgic. It reminded him of his childhood. How easily Vanya could delight in such simple things, back then.

"I doubt he'd object if you tagged along this week," Five added. "The more the merrier and all that." 

"You think so?" Vanya fiddled with her ponytail, loosening and tightening it. "I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"No, no, I'm sure he'd be thrilled," Five said. "Though I leave the arrangements to him, so I can't warn you what our torture will be." 

She beamed at him. Five studied the smile. 

Huh. 

Maybe she could use some positive reinforcement too. 

"But there's also Sundays," Five said. "I can give you Sundays." 

His heart ached for Ben, but this was not a loss. He would not be neglecting Ben, Five reasoned, because he could rearrange the schedule with Ben as a priority. 

A priority under Vanya, at least.

Ben could have Wednesday from now on, Five decided. He was almost done reading Mom's manual anyway. He would reassign her to Thursday, share that day with the custody law research-

"… _every_ Sunday?" Vanya lost volume when she was nervous, voice shrinking as if to hide from the listener. "... math stuff. Five?" 

"Don't worry about my 'math stuff,' Vanya," Five said. "Though, of course, I wouldn't want to disrupt your weekends. Do you think every other Sunday works better?" 

She blinked at him. 

"Perhaps the first Sunday of every month?" Five checked his watch. "I don't want to rush you, but doesn't the subway stop running at a certain point? We should wrap this up." 

Instead of answering him, Vanya walked around the table and pulled up a chair next to him. Then, tentatively, she lifted an arm. Five watched her hand slowly inch towards his head and raised an eyebrow. 

She blushed at his expression, but carried on with her movement, carefully placing her hand on top of his head. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Um, in the movies..." Vanya's hand was hovering over his head now, in light contact with his hair. 

If her mortification wasn't already plain on her face it would have been obvious in the way she's begun whispering. Five had to strain his ears to catch her words. 

"Like… a head pat?" Her arm was trembling. "I wanted…" 

Affection, Five realized. She was attempting to show him physical affection. In her own clumsy way. 

"I suppose you can spend the night here," Five said. "It is Friday, after all." 

"Oh?" 

"It's too late for you to be wandering about," Five said. "And if you're joining the bro date anyway-"

"Bro date?" Vanya snorted. "You did not just say that." 

He huffed. "That's what _Klaus_ calls it." 

"It's unnatural hearing the word 'bro' coming from _you._ " Vanya smoothed the hair back from his forehead with a jolt of confidence, hiding her smirk behind her other hand. "Bro date!" 

"Anyway, Klaus can lend you something to sleep in," Five said. "I'd offer you my own pajamas, but I only have one pair." 

"But then what would I wear tomorrow?" Vanya finally pulled her hand away from his head and rubbed at her chin. "We'd have to stop by my apartment, in the end." 

"Or you could borrow something from Mom?" 

She gave him an unimpressed look. 

"Perhaps not," Five said. "From… Klaus?" 

"We can figure it out tomorrow, I guess." 

Five preferred to figure things out ahead of time, but he was learning to be flexible. 

"Alright," Five said. "Tomorrow then." 

They regarded each other. 

"Do you need blankets, or…?" 

"I'll go ask Mom," Vanya said. "Don't worry about it." 

He nodded. "Then goodnight?" 

"Goodnight," Vanya said. "Um… I love you." 

"I love you too, of course." Five did not hesitate with the phrase, but he realized as he spoke that he had not said the words in years. 

"But we should say so more often," he added. "Oh, and are we agreed on Sundays?" 

"Sure, Five." Vanya put a delicate hand on his shoulder. A feather light touch, at first, but then she gave him a squeeze. "We're agreed." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five is my favorite character so I'm gonna write a whole ass series that revolves around him! ^o^


	2. Five the favorite

_Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid._

_― Fyodor Dostoevsky_

“I spent the weekend with my brother,” Vanya announced.

Her new therapist smiled indulgently. “Oh? Which brother?” The woman glanced at her notes. “You have four of them.” 

Therapy was one of those things that was hit or miss. Vanya knew that. She also knew that a lot of people believed its benefits were more of a placebo effect: if the patient believed therapy would help them, then it helped them. If they had a negative mind set, it usually wouldn’t help them.

Vanya did a lot of research on the topic to try and get Five to try it out. If the facts were on her side, she’d thought, then Five would be too.

But then it turned out the facts were still undecided. 

“Mostly with Five,” Vanya said. “Though we hung out with Klaus too.” 

“Ah, Five the favorite,” the therapist said. 

Vanya winced. “Please don’t call him that.”

It was true that Five was her favorite, but it was embarrassing to hear it said out loud like that. 

“My bad,” the woman chuckled light heartedly. “So what did you do together?” 

“Well, on Friday we watched a movie,” Vanya said. “A bunch of us, actually. With Luther and Klaus and Mom too. She said it was her third movie.”

“Ah, they were having a movie marathon?” the therapist said. 

“No, she meant, like, it was the third movie she’d seen,” Vanya said. “Ever. Cause Mom didn’t watch any movies until… until recently.” 

This was not the first therapist Vanya had worked with. It wasn’t even the second. Still, she felt like she was a bit rusty with this whole therapy thing. It had been a few years since she’d… since she’d needed something like this. 

“Oh, of course,” the therapist said. “I suppose a robot wouldn’t have much interest in movies, would it?” 

“She’s not an it,” Vanya said. “And she liked the movie.” 

The therapist nodded. “What else did you do with Five?” 

“On Saturday we took Klaus to his NA meeting,” Vanya said. “Klaus is in Narcotics Anonymous now.” 

“Good for him!” the woman crooned. “It’s important to have a support network.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Vanya said. “And then afterwards Klaus took us to a waterpark.” 

“Perfect time of year for waterparks,” the therapist said. “I’m sure you had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah,” Vanya said. “Yeah, it was fun. And Five didn’t have a swimsuit, so Klaus bought him one in the gift shop. It was one of those swimsuits with an animal theme and it had stingrays.” 

Vanya laughed, remembering the look on Five’s face. 

The therapist nodded, still smiling that indulgent smile of hers. Like she was humoring a little kid who was bragging about a favored toy. 

Vanya cleared her throat. “But on Sunday it was just the two of us. Me and Five, I mean.” 

“You spend a lot of time with Five, if I remember correctly,” the therapist said. “Tuesdays and Fridays, every week, I think you said.” 

“Well, yeah but.” Vanya scratched her cheek. “That’s different. That’s for training.” 

“So this weekend felt more special?” 

“I mean… yes? _I_ thought it was special,” Vanya said. 

“You sound uncertain,” the therapist said. 

It was hard not to be uncertain when talking to this woman. This therapist had a way of poking at Vanya’s words. Of… of prodding. And that was the _point_ of therapy, of course, but...

_“Have you ever thought your attachment to Five is a tad unhealthy?”_

“Is it unhealthy to want to spend time with my brother?” Vanya said. “Is that so wrong?” 

The therapist sighed. “I did not say it was unhealthy.” 

“Last month you said it was,” Vanya said. “You said-” 

“Let’s pause for a second,” the therapist said. “Take a deep breath, Vanya.” 

Vanya did so, and she noticed the ringing in her ears by its absence. 

Oh. She’d been rattling the room a bit, with her power. 

Shit. 

“I’m sorry,” Vanya said. 

“It’s alright,” the therapist said. “No harm done.” 

“Still.” Vanya fiddled with a hole at the hem of her shirt. 

“Let’s get back on topic,” the therapist said. “What did you do with Five on Sunday?” 

“I took him to an animal shelter,” Vanya said. “I think I was feeling a little competitive.” 

“Competitive?” 

“With Klaus,” Vanya said. “Cause apparently Klaus gets Five to himself every Saturday.” 

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah and like.” Vanya noticed the ringing in her ears this time and took a deep breath. “Klaus already _lives with him._ Him and Luther, technically, they can hang out with Five whenever they want. None of them have jobs! They could just, they could have movie marathons all day every day if they _wanted_. But Klaus also gets Saturdays and he gets to drag Five out of the house and… and go to water parks and aquariums.” 

“You were jealous,” the therapist said. 

“Just a little,” Vanya said. “Just… just a _tad._ ” 

The therapist pursed her lips. “That’s natural.” 

“It _is_ natural,” Vanya said. “Anyway, I was feeling competitive so I thought, well, Five didn’t like the stingrays. He hated the stingrays.”

The therapist nodded. 

“But at the animal shelter there’s Cat Castle,” Vanya said. “I thought Five would like cats because they’re soft and they’re… they’re calm.” 

“Did he like the cats?”

“He loved the cats,” Vanya said. “I… I think he loved the cats.” 

“You mentioned you find Five difficult to understand,” the therapist said.

“Five is hard to read,” Vanya said. “It was easier when we were kids, but now he kind of… his default expression is kind of grumpy, so it’s hard to tell.” 

The therapist nodded sympathetically. 

“A lot of the cats were kind of desperate for affection,” Vanya said. “I think because they’re shelter cats, so they don’t get that much attention? They were rubbing up against our legs and when we sat down there were a few who would just walk up onto our laps.” 

“That’s sweet,” the therapist said. 

“And Five _let them,_ ” Vanya said. “So he must have liked them.” 

“He probably did,” the therapist reassured. “It sounds like you had a very nice weekend.” 

“We did,” Vanya said. “And Five said he would give me Sundays from now on. So.” 

The therapist smiled and Vanya thought it actually looked genuine this time. It was a bigger smile, with more wrinkles in her cheeks. 

“What is it?” Vanya said. 

“Hmm?” 

“Sorry, it’s just… you smiled like…” Vanya tried to put it into words. “Like you were thinking of something nice.” 

“Oh!” the therapist chuckled. “It’s just the phrasing. It reminded me of my son.” 

Vanya blinked. “What phrasing?” 

“That he would _give_ you Sundays,” the therapist said. “On Mother’s Day, years ago- when my son was still in high school, he felt bad that he’d already spent all his allowance. He couldn’t buy me a gift.” 

Not knowing what else to do, Vanya nodded encouragingly, the way the therapist usually did.

The woman noticed and her smile widened. 

“So my son said, ‘Mom this year I’m giving you Saturdays! For the next month you can make me do whatever you want on Saturdays, I’ll do extra chores or I’ll go bowling with you’- he hates bowling- ‘or I’ll do whatever you tell me to do,’” the therapist sighed wistfully. “It was the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”

“Wow,” Vanya said. “That’s… yeah. It’s a good gift.” 

“Your brother loves you, Vanya,” the therapist said. “And you love him too. This is a good thing.” 

Vanya frowned. “But?” 

The woman crossed her legs together and sat back in her chair, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“I chose the wrong words, when I said your attachment was unhealthy. I apologize for that.” 

“But…?” 

“The concern I was trying to express,” the therapist said. “Is the fact that… well, you put a lot of pressure on yourself. And on him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She steepled her hands together. “He was missing for seventeen years, correct?” 

“Yeah,” Vanya said. 

“It was a traumatic event,” the therapist said. “And we know now that Five did not mean to leave. We know where he was and why he couldn’t come back sooner.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I have a theory,” the therapist continued. “That there is a part of you, a subconscious unacknowledged part of you, that is not swayed by the rational explanation for Five’s disappearance. A part of you that is convinced that you have to work hard now that Five is back. To work hard, so that he won’t leave again.” 

Vanya blinked. 

“But it’s just a theory,” the therapist said. “Something to think about.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Vanya was painfully aware of Five's posture while the movie played. Of the way he smirked at math references that went over her head and how he tutted sympathetically when Benedict Cumberbatch's character was threatened. 

_The Imitation Game_ was the perfect movie for Five. That was a relief, at least. The biopic certainly catered to his interests better than that action flick they'd seen at the Academy. 

In fact it was a little _too_ perfect. How would she top this? Maybe next time they could watch another biopic, but what historical figure could possibly be better than Alan Turing? 

"It's pathetic isn't it?" Five said. 

Vanya jumped. "Wh-what? Me?" 

Five waved an expansive hand at the screen. 

"Those idiots could have lost the _war,_ Vanya." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Just imagine if Turing had been publicly outed before M16 approached him," Five said. "Hell, even if it had happened afterwards. Even if his methods had already been tried and tested, and the tide of the war was already turning, the _entire thing_ could have still been unraveled."

"It was a delicate, uh, a delicate process," Vanya said. "That decoder machine." 

She wanted to contribute to the conversation, but she was a bit distracted. Would Five like a movie about Stephen Hawking?

"And for what?" Five continued. "Something as inane and _inconsequential_ as the man's sexuality?" 

" _Oh_ , yeah it really was horrible back then," Vanya said, thinking of Sissy. "I wish it didn't have to be such a, such a political thing? Because, relationships… they shouldn't be restricted like that. Needing to keep it a secret, it's… stressful." 

"Exactly," Five said. "Of course, you would know better than I do. You and Klaus." 

Five shook his head, sighing ruefully. "Still, it continues to baffle me. The sheer stupidity of it all. It's ridiculous." 

He reached for his coffee mug and harrumphed when he found it empty. Vanya scrambled up to get him a refill and then she wanted to slap herself. 

Was she really trying too hard? Was this unhealthy? 

Vanya was so distracted by the thought that she didn't properly look when she poured, and the coffee ended up… 

It looked like some of it landed on him, but Five immediately teleported away, so _most_ of it was dumped directly on the couch. The flash of blue light startled her into dropping the pot and she stood there staring at the mess in dismay. 

"Alright." Five calmly removed his blazer and sweater vest. "Let's hear it." 

"I'm _so_ sorry," Vanya said. "I'll lend you something to wear, I'll-"

"You misunderstood me," Five rubbed at his forehead, teeth grinding audibly. "I don't want apologies. Tell me what _happened_." 

"I'm sorry," she repeated, reflexively. "Shit, I mean, I just wasn't looking properly, I-"

Another flash of blue and Five was directly in front of her now. He put his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"I am _not_ mad at you," Five said. "You don't need to worry." 

"Okay." Vanya took a deep breath and gave him a look over. The coffee hadn't burned him, had it? 

Then she spotted the blood stains. "Five," she gasped. "You're bleeding." 

He gave himself a cursory glance. "No, I'm not. Those are old stains." 

Looking closer, she saw that he was right. The blood had a faded look about it.

"Oh," she said. 

A pause.

"I'm going to lend you a shirt to wear," Vanya said. 

He opened his mouth, maybe to protest, but she cut him off. "And you should throw that one away. Please." 

He pursed his lips. "Fine." 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It wasn't until she was standing alone in her living room that she noticed the television screen had been shattered. 

Whoops. 

_That is a problem for later,_ Vanya told herself firmly. 

She turned to her couch instead, removing the stained cushion. But before she could make much progress there either, she noticed the blazer and sweater vest. 

Five had left them on the floor. She picked them up and scrutinized the material. 

Now that she was looking closely, Vanya saw that, besides the coffee, they both had a few blood stains too. It was subtler, and mostly disguised by the dark color of the fabric, but they were _there_. 

Why was Five still wearing these uniforms anyway? She'd asked him once. 

_"They get the job done,"_ he'd said dismissively. _"I don't care about clothes anyway."_

And Vanya had figured, well, it's Five choice isn't it? Maybe he even _liked_ the uniform. 

But were they _all_ blood stained like this? 

Five emerged from her bathroom in a gray button up and black slacks. He adjusted the shirt cuffs and frowned at her. 

"What?" he said. "The shorts wouldn't work with this shirt, so I took the liberty of borrowing some pants while I was at it." 

"That's fine." She tried to school her expression. "Uh, I'm just surprised they fit you." 

"We're the same height," Five said. "Essentially the same size." 

"That's good," Vanya said. "You know, in that case, do you want to…" 

She hesitated. 

Five massaged his forehead. "Please complete your sentences. You're giving me a stress headache."

"Sorry," Vanya said. "Do you need a belt?" 

Five pulled at his waistband thoughtfully. They _were_ the same height, but he was a lot skinnier than her.

"Sure." 

He followed her into her bedroom and watched while she rummaged in the closet. 

"You have good taste," Five said. "Very respectable." 

She blushed. "Thank you." 

Then, with confidence this time, "You can borrow stuff whenever you want." 

"That's not necessary-"

"I know but." Vanya shrugged. "Well, I just wanted you to know. It's an option." 

"Alright." 

"Or maybe we could go shopping some time?" Vanya said. "So you could-"

"Oh, stop it," Five said. "You're trying to distract me from the problem at hand." 

"Huh?" 

"Vanya," he said, sounding exasperated. "What _happened._ "

"Um." She handed him a belt. "I just missed the mug." 

"Bullshit." Five angrily slotted the belt through the pant loops. "You've been acting weird all day." 

"No I haven't," Vanya insisted. "I just spilled some coffee." 

"You were a little off on Friday too," Five said. "But you were fine on Tuesday, so when did it happen? On Wednesday? Thursday?" 

"When did _what_ happen?" Vanya slammed her closet door shut. 

She hated it when he got like this. 

"You tell me!" Five snapped. "Did you have an unruly student this week? Did one of the parents yell at you?" 

She sighed. "No, Five." 

"Is this about the orchestra?" Five said. "It should be safe to go back soon-"

"Five-"

"Or maybe it's Allison," Five said. "Does she call you? Luther's always on the phone with her-"

"No-"

"I'll tell her to call you," Five said. 

"What? No, she _does_ call." Vanya could hear that ringing in her ears again. "You don't need to-"

"It would be a lot easier for both of us," Five said. "If you would just _tell me_ -"

"Shut up!" As soon as the words were out Vanya clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at him in horror. 

She shouldn't have said that.

Five rolled his eyes. "You look like I just killed a puppy in front of you." 

"I'm sorry," Vanya said. "Look, just… um." 

"No, no," Five said. "Far be it from me to poke around in my sister's business. I'll just show myself out." 

She surged forward and grabbed his arm.

"Wait!" 

"What?"

"You can't just… just leave!" 

Five gave her a look. "Can't I?" 

"It's Sunday," she said, plaintively. 

He looked at her. 

She let go of his arm. 

"Are you hungry?" Five said. 

"Huh? Um, no." 

"Well, you _will_ be soon enough," Five said. "Let's go somewhere." 

Crisis averted, Vanya took a moment to calm her breathing. She glanced around warily, looking for broken light bulbs or other evidence of… of wayward powers. 

"Where do you want to go?" Vanya said, calmly. 

Everything looked fine. Was everything fine? There were tiny little cracks in the walls. The closet door was wide open. It had slammed open, hadn't it? Why hadn't the movement _registered_ while it was happening? 

Dammit, whenever she started to think she finally had _control_ things like this would happen. And that control slipped through her fingers without her even _noticing_. 

What if- 

"Vanya," Five said. "Look at me." 

Reluctantly, she met his eyes. 

"You've made remarkable progress," Five said. "All this?" He gestured at the room. "This isn't something to worry about." 

"But-"

"No, listen to me." Five ran an agitated hand through his hair. "Think of it like… like a pond." 

"Wh-"

"Bear with me," Five said. "Your ability, it disturbs the water, right? Like a boulder, like a cannonball, it makes a splash." 

"Sure," Vanya said. "I guess so." 

He held his arms out, grinning broadly. "And _this_? This was a _pebble_ compared to what you're capable of." 

"But I keep _leaking,_ " Vanya said. "I'll never-" 

"If you'd just take a step back and look at this _logically_ ," Five said. "You'd see that these episodes of yours have decreased in both magnitude and frequency." 

"Oh my god," Vanya said. "Sometimes I wonder if _you're_ the robot." 

That got to him. Five glared at her. "Excuse me?" 

_Deep breaths,_ Vanya thought. _Deep breaths._

"I don't want to fight with you," Vanya said. 

"Did you think _I_ wanted a fight?" There was a dark glint to his eyes now. "Because this is not how I would fight." 

She winced. "I didn't mean… I don't think that." 

"What do you want from me, Vanya?!" Five threw his hands in the air in a way that reminded her of Klaus. "What do you want me to say, hmm? Do you want me to put on a smile like Mom and say 'hush now silly, everything will be alright'? Should I burp you too?" 

He was seething now and Vanya realized with a start that she hadn't seen Five this angry since they were children. 

"Um," she said. 

"News flash," Five said. "I'm not Mom. And I'm not Allison, I'm not _Klaus-"_

Not knowing what else to do, Vanya grabbed Five by the shoulders and pulled him into a rough hug. He stiffened and there was a faint buzzing crackle in the air. A glint of blue. 

_He's leaving!_ Vanya thought.

The fear motived her to hold on tighter. Was there a way to force him to stay in place? 

How could she ever hope to hold onto someone who could jump through time and space at will? 

But Five didn't teleport out of her arms. Maybe he'd thought about it. Maybe he'd started, but changed his mind. 

"Thank you," Vanya said. "Please don't go." 

Five didn't answer. 

But he didn't leave either. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"So I thought about what you said," Vanya said. "I think your theory… might not be... entirely wrong." 

"Did something happen?" the therapist said. 

_"Tell me what happened."_

Vanya winced. "Sort of." 

The therapist nodded, but she didn't say anything. 

Vanya wondered how long she could get away with just sitting here in silence. If it would make the other woman uncomfortable, the same way it did to Five. 

"Five hates meditation," Vanya said. 

The therapist smiled indulgently. "Alright?" 

"I'm only bringing it up because we meditate every week," Vanya said. "It's part of the training." 

"Did you get into a fight because of it?" the therapist said. "Because Five hates meditation?" 

"No," Vanya said. "We… we _did_ fight. But no, it wasn't about that." 

Vanya took a moment to close her eyes. To listen to her heartbeat, her breathing, and the ambient sounds of the room. 

She could hear the therapist's breathing too and the way the woman was shifting in her seat. 

Vanya opened her eyes.

"Meditation was Five's idea," Vanya said. "I didn't notice, at first. That he didn't like it." 

The therapist hummed thoughtfully. "It's been helpful to you?" 

"Really helpful," Vanya said. "But Five's not like me. He… he's kind of a restless person." 

"I see." 

"I think that… Five keeps a lot of things to himself." Vanya fiddled with a button on her sleeve. "On the surface he acts kind of harsh sometimes, but he does these little things for me and then… and then I start to worry that I'm not doing enough for _him."_

"What was the fight about, Vanya?" 

The button on her sleeve came loose and Vanya looked down at it in surprise. 

Then she almost dropped it. 

"Vanya?" 

"Um, I spilled coffee on him," Vanya said. "And afterwards he made a big deal about it. He thought something was wrong with me." 

"And it offended you?" 

Vanya frowned. "It didn't offend me." 

_Had_ it offended her? 

"I just thought… I just wished." Vanya huffed, unable to find the right words. "He gets, like, single mindedly focused on me sometimes." 

"In a way that overwhelms you?" 

"Yeah! It was overwhelming," Vanya said. "That way he looks at me sometimes. Like I'm a puzzle. Or a… a problem. That he needs to _fix_. _"_

"I see," the therapist said. "He puts a lot of pressure on himself too, then." 

"I guess so," Vanya said. "So what do we do about it? How do we…" 

"Fix it?" The light hearted laugh felt real this time. 

And Vanya wanted to laugh too. "I guess it isn't that simple?" 

"No, Vanya," the therapist said. "I'm afraid not." 

"But then what was the point of your whole speech last week?" Vanya huffed. "All that stuff about how I'm putting too much pressure on myself and on him?" 

The therapist's grin was all teeth now and Vanya had the distinct feeling that she'd walked into a trap. 

"Well," the therapist said. "I've noticed that you and Five have a way of dancing around each other. Of worrying about each other. But you don't communicate." 

"We communicate," Vanya said, defensively.

_"It would be easier on both of us if you would just tell me."_

"Mostly," Vanya said.

Her therapist gave her an unimpressed look. 

"Five walks around in bloodstained clothes!" Vanya blurted. "And he thinks _I_ have the problem?! He has a problem too!" 

The therapist nodded sympathetically. "You both have problems," she agreed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Things had gotten awkward between them. Their training session on Tuesday had been a stilted affair. The only words exchanged were basic instructions. 

Five had done most of the talking. 

On Friday, Vanya was determined to _say_ something. 

Something… meaningful. 

She waited until they were done meditating. It gave her the chance to psyche herself up. To practice her speech. 

When the timer went off Vanya took one more deep breath and opened her eyes, regarding Five with determination.

"I've been going to therapy," Vanya said. 

"I know," Five said. 

"I didn't want to tell you because… what?" 

Five frowned at her. "Was it a secret?" 

She gaped at him. "Yes?" 

"Vanya." Five pinched the bridge of his nose. "It was on your _calendar_. Wednesdays at 12 p.m. Therapy." 

She blinked. "Oh, um, I didn't think you would look at that." 

"You hung it up on your fridge for the world to see!" Five said. 

"I don't usually have guests over!" 

"Okay," Five said. "Alright. So Sunday, that incident, it was because of your therapy?" 

He was regarding her thoughtfully, with that familiar furrow in his brow.

Vanya closed her eyes. 

Deep breaths. 

Stay calm. 

"Yes," Vanya said. "It was because of my therapy." 

"That's easy then," Five said. "Just stop going." 

She opened her eyes. " _What?_ "

He raised an eyebrow. "You have a better solution?" 

She sputtered. 

"It seems simple enough to me," Five said. "That therapist bothered you, or offended you in some way, and you let it…" 

Vanya frowned at him. "I let it what?" 

Five took a moment to consider her. 

"I let it _what_ , Five?" 

"You let it interfere with our work here." Five gestured at the training room. "We've been making _progress_ and whatever that was, on Sunday? It… it just seems counterproductive." 

She stared at him, completely flummoxed.

"What?" Five said. 

"I'm not quitting therapy," Vanya said, shoulders tensing. 

She braced herself for an argument. 

Five rubbed his temples. He opened his mouth, but then he closed it. 

He cast his eyes about, as if he was looking for an ally. Or for patience. 

Finally he took a deep breath through his mouth and let it out through his nose.

"Alright," Five said. 

Vanya blinked. "That's it?" 

He glared at her. "What do you want me to say?" 

"I just thought…" Vanya tried to figure out a tactful way to put it, but then she gave up. "I thought you would call me stupid." 

Five scoffed. "You're not stupid." 

"I'm… I'm not?" 

Now he looked offended. "When have I ever called _you_ stupid?"

Vanya noticed the way he emphasized 'you' and realized that she'd seen him call a _lot_ of people stupid over the years. But he'd never actually directed the sentiment towards her. 

_"You're too young_ , _"_ he'd said once. _"Too naive. I should have known you wouldn't understand."_

Young. Naive. But not stupid. Was there a difference?

"So you're just going to accept it?" Vanya said. "And that's it?" 

He ran a weary hand over his face. "I don't understand you. Do you _want_ me to argue with you?" 

"Um, no," Vanya said. 

"Then that settles it," Five said. "But tell me this, at least." 

Five warped and suddenly he was standing so close to her their noses were almost touching. 

His grin was all teeth, manic. "What _exactly_ did that therapist say to you, hmm?"

The little laugh that escaped her was more of a wheeze. She almost choked on it. 

Five took a step back, eyes narrowing. 

"She said she could tell that you love me very much," Vanya said. "And that's a good thing, but…" 

Now he looked confused. "But?" 

"But we need to communicate." 

He scoffed. "Well, _I_ could have told you that." 

"Yeah." Vanya smiled at him. "I think you did. In your own way." 

Five tutted. "Okay, well, much as I love you." He gestured at his watch. "We also have a schedule to keep and right now we're falling behind." 

"Oh! Right." Vanya knelt by her violin case and opened it up. "Sorry about that." 

Five waved her apology away, like he always did. 

"And I love you too," she added. 

"Of course," Five said. 

And that was that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was as cathartic for you as it was for me.
> 
> And please subscribe to "Five is a problem solver" for more Five sibling bonding. 
> 
> Next time: Five and Klaus!


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